Yesterday my family had the whole building over for dinner. About 35 people. [Yes, parents always wait for children to be home to do these sort of things!]
I offered to make Sangria [well, my version of Sangria]. It is a great drink, easy to serve and always does well.
I make two large bowls of the drink. The colour was deep maroon, the fruit was fresh and the alcohol had just the right kick. My dad was really excited to serve it.
‘May I offer you a glass of Sangria – this Spanish drink that my daughter has made for today?’ says my dad to the first set of guests that arrive.
Here I need to mention the fact that they were all Indian couples, with children.
A blank stare with ‘what is it exactly?’ were a majority of the replies. My dad has the gift of the gab, so quite effortlessly he managed to thrust a glass to everyone who wanted an alcoholic beverage.
Once they had the glass in their hand – the whole taking-a-sip-from-your-glass equation took new meaning.
First they look at it quizically. Something red with bits in it. Then they smell it. They they realise it has fruit in it and wonder – is this a drink or desert?
They can’t throw it, nor leave it on the table and ask my dad the bar tender for another drink, so they forcefully take a sip with an expression that says ‘what’s this fruity pink thing I’m drinking on a Friday night, where’s the whisky!?’
You’d think they’d atleast finish the meagre glass full that they were given but leaving it on the table for an extended period of time seemed like the better option. However, some of them actually did drink it all; infact they drank the glass so quickly that all the fruit remained in the glass and then they asked for forks to eat the fruit (!). And nobody asked for a refill.
What a disaster!